


Outsiders

by assholemurphy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Canon verse, F/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Platonic Sex, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assholemurphy/pseuds/assholemurphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Clarke and Murphy are back in Camp Jaha, Murphy for longer than Clarke, but neither of them are adjusting well. How could they when all they wanted was to leave again? It's hard, trying to readjust, so naturally they gravitate towards the only people who understand, each other. Months of loneliness and frustration result in a shouting match that has unforeseen results. It's not about each other, not specifically, it's just about sex and being close to someone. That's all it is, and Murphy knows it.</p>
<p>Clarphy sex for the sake of intimacy, no personal feelings. Slight pining from Murphy after the fact. Marked underage because Murphy is 17 and Clarke is 18 (canonically.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outsiders

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first attempt at m/f sex and it's not overly descriptive. It's not porn, it's just slightly smutty angst.
> 
> Written for Underappreciated Ships Month on tumblr.

Four months. He'd been back in this godforsaken camp for four months and he still wished he'd never come home. Well, no, not home. This place wasn't home and it never would be. Home was where you fit, where people liked you, and where you felt safe, and this place was none of that for Murphy. This place was nothing more than a shelter, if that. He had just as much to fear from the people inside the fences as he did from those beyond them. This would never be his home.

He would have thought, though, that with as long as he'd been back, the uneasy looks and not-so-stealthy shuffling away that happened whenever he approached would have faded, but they hadn't. He was an outsider here, as much as he had been in the City of Light, as much as he had been on the Ark and at the dropship. He didn't fit here, he couldn't find the same peace that the rest of them did, huddled up in corners, hiding from the Grounders and whatever else was out there.

He was an outsider, but for the first time since he'd come back, he wasn't alone.

Figuratively, at least, because though Clarke wandered through camp with the same lost expression he had worn, and still wore, she had yet to even speak to him. Granted, she'd only been back for a fraction of the time Murphy had been, and she seemed, to him, to still be trying to fit back in where she had once before. Maybe she would, too. Maybe it would be easier for her, after all, she'd been loved before she had left. She could come back and join them again and it would be just like she'd never been gone.

Murphy almost envied her for it. _Almost._

But it wasn't really that easy for Clarke, anyone could see that. She never tried to pretend she hadn't left. She knew it would be different when she came back, but she hadn't expected it to be this different, and after two months of trying to readjust to life among the hundred and the Ark's survivors with little to no progress, she found herself on the edges of camp, her feet carrying her mindlessly towards the tent furthest from the rest.

Murphy isolated himself as much as everyone else did, and Clarke felt a stab of pity for him, but it was gone the second he looked up at her through the tent's opening, a smirk on his face, “You must be pretty damn desperate for company if you're coming to me.”

She ignored the truth in his words and instead asked, though a little hesitantly, “Can I come in?”

Murphy shrugged, gesturing to the open door, “Who am I to deny the princess anything?”

Clarke rolled her eyes at him and entered the tent, awkwardly sitting down next to him on the makeshift bed of blankets, Murphy watching her closely, like he was afraid she was going to lash out at him at any time. 

The silence that followed made her wish she had never thought of coming here. It was almost like they'd completely forgotten to interact with other people, but there had been no need for social skills when they'd been alone. It wasn't easy to readjust, either. How were they supposed to come back and do it all over again? How were they supposed to act like they hadn't left? Like they didn't wish everyday that they had stayed gone?

She didn't realize she'd voiced the questions out loud until Murphy answered. “I don't know,” Murphy told her, sincerely. There was no need to act in front of her, he didn't want nor need her approval. “And I don't think anyone else does, either.”

She nodded, not saying a word, and the is conversation dropped again for a moment until, “Why'd you come back?”

“Why did you?” Murphy asked in return, more curious than defensive.

“Because my people need me,” Clarke answered, not looking up at him, not really believing the words herself. As much as she had been missed, life had gone on in her absence. She was needed, sure, but she wasn't the only one they needed, and she wasn't the only one who could lead them. If she had never come back, nothing would have changed about that. Life in camp would have still moved without her. “At least I thought they did.”

“Surprised that the world didn't just stop when you left? Amazing, right? Turns out you _aren't_ the center of our solar system after all,” Murphy snarked, snorting softly.

“At least I had a reason to come back.”

“What makes you think I don't?” He snapped, offended by her assumption. Granted, his reason for coming back was more that he had gotten tired of being on his own and he'd figured that even being with those who hated him had to be better than no one at all. He'd been wrong, but he still couldn't bring himself to leave again.

“A good one? Or did you just decide you hadn't killed enough of our people? You're nothing but a killer and you should have stayed gone, Murphy,” Clarke spat, her words full of venom. She didn't understand why Murphy would come back if he didn't have to. Not when they'd already banished him once. Why would he come back here if he'd found somewhere better? It didn't make sense to her. He had no responsibility, no reason to come back. He could have stayed gone but he didn't and Clarke hated him for it. Hated that he got to _choose_ , that he never would have felt the guilt that would have come with deciding not to come back.

“Like you haven't done worse,” He sneered, shaking his head. “You know, I've heard all about what you did in Mt. Weather. I must say, I'm impressed. Sounds like something I would have done.” He wasn't, really, he didn't actually have an opinion on her actions, she'd done what she'd needed to, good for her, he didn't care, but he knew it would sting. If there was one thing people in this camp hated almost as much as the Grounders, it was him, and he couldn't imagine being compared to him would do anything other than hurt.

Clarke glared at him, her hands balling into fists as she spewed insults at him, telling him that he'd never be able to understand why she did what she did. She was protecting her people, what did he know about that? Nothing, he knew absolutely fucking nothing and how dare he act like he could even begin to understand her actions.

Murphy fired back, matching her shout for shout until they're both standing, yelling and fighting and letting out all the anger they'd been holding in. For the first time no one was watching, no one was judging them for it. For being angry at the world that had tried to kill them at every turn, their only offense being that they dared to live in it, for being angry at the people who sent them down here to die, expecting that they would, because they were disposable. There was so much anger, fear, and frustration in their words, no longer aimed at each other, but spoken just because it couldn't be held back any longer.

It was easy, to let the words fly, to let go of holding back and to just give in to the pain and frustration that came with living on this fucked up planet, that came with trying to survive when they were just kids and they shouldn't have to. Dammit, they were just _kids_.

The words stopped coming, Clarke reaching out for Murphy. For a second he thought she was going to hit him, but instead she pulled him down, crashing their lips together and tugging at his clothes, anger giving way to need. The need to not feel completely alone for once, at least for a little while.

Murphy gave in willingly, not hesitating at all, because he needed this as much as Clarke did, even if he'd never seek it out himself. It was rough, there was nothing behind it, no real feelings other than the need for human contact, but that was enough for them. It was sex for the sake of being close to someone, both of them craving intimacy but having no idea how to chase it because no one else got it.

No one else knew what it was like to leave and come back to a place you had once called home only for it to have changed completely to the point where you don't even recognize it anymore. Adjusting was near impossible when everyone else had changed, or maybe it was just them that had changed and they didn't know what to do about it. They no longer fit, like plants that had grown wild and could no longer be contained inside because they had tasted freedom, and it had been everything they had wanted, but the aftertaste of loneliness had driven them back to where they'd began, despite knowing that it wasn't where they belonged.

They didn't really belong anywhere now.

Murphy held her close, lowering her down onto his bed, kissing at her neck, both having been stripped of their shirts already. He was being too gentle, too soft, he knew he was, because he didn't want to accidentally hurt her, but he was terrified he would. He hurt a lot of things without meaning to, but not her, not this. For once he wanted to do something right.

“You're not going to break me, you know,” Clarke urged him on, her hands fumbling with the zipper on his pants, her hand disappearing below his waistband, Murphy groaning when she took hold of him.

Murphy knew that, that wasn't what he was afraid of. He knew she wouldn't break, but he might, because this was the most anyone had wanted to touch him since they'd landed and he wasn't sure what to do other than to give in and take it, barely keeping himself from begging for more, never wanting it to end because now that he knew what it was like to be close, to have someone touch him so eagerly, he didn't think he'd be able to handle it when it was gone.

He raised up, shoving his pants off and then helping Clarke pull off her own, before lowering back down and taking his time exploring her body, kissing her and reveling in how it felt for someone to need him for once. He let his hands wander, following the curves of her body, one of them slipping down between her legs and he smirked when she gasped.

He took his time, placing feather light kisses against her skin as she writhed beneath him, biting her lip with her eyes shut tightly. He enjoyed it, being able to make someone feel good instead of bad for once. Maybe he'd finally found something he was good at.

“Fuck, Murphy. Come on, hurry up!” She demanded, finally tired of being teased.

Murphy smirked at her, “I didn't know you wanted me that badly, Clarke.”

“Just shut up and get on with it,” She ordered, thrusting down onto his hand, demanding more. “And stop fucking talking.”

Murphy nodded and did as he was told, not saying another word because he understood perfectly. She didn't want him, she wanted this, but not _him_. He wasn't the one she wanted, and he refused to let it sting when she closed her eyes again, presumably pretending he was someone else, someone she actually wanted. That was fine. He was just a fuck to her, and that was okay, because she was nothing special to him, either. This wasn't about them, it was just about the act. They had been on their own for too long and it felt like he was breaking as he buried himself inside her.

He didn't bother to attempt to imagine it was someone else, because he couldn't, he didn't care enough about the who. Clarke was as good as anyone, he figured, and at least she did want him enough to touch him.

She pulled him into a kiss, rougher than he would have liked, but her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling ever so slightly, and he was lost to it, lost to her, and he thought, that if she'd ask, he'd give her anything, because he never quite understood how to do things halfway, but she wouldn't. This was all she was going to take from him and he was grateful, because he knew she could take anything she wanted from him until he had nothing left and he wouldn't even try to stop her.

Clarke moaned in his ear, shoving his hand down to work at her until she bucked against him, brought off with a cry. Murphy wasn't too far behind, pressing gentle kisses to her neck, afraid to make any lasting marks in case she decided she'd rather not have to explain them, explain _him_. She tightened around him and he managed a few quick trusts, whispering her name like a prayer against her skin as he finished, panting and falling to the side so he wouldn't be on her.

They laid there, coming down, Murphy tracing mindless patterns against Clarke's skin. She watched his hand for a moment before meeting his eyes, giving him an apologetic look and Murphy wanted nothing more than to say, “Don't be, god, _don't be,_ ” but he remained silent as she stood and found her clothes, dressing and leaving without a word, not even looking back at him, which was just as well, because if she looked back she might have ended up staying, and that wouldn't have been fair to either of them.

Murphy watched her leave, staring at the empty space where she'd been standing, feeling more relaxed than he had since his return but somehow even more empty and he hated it, because this was what he wanted, right? But it hadn't been enough. It had only left him wanting for what he still needed. He was still an outsider and so was she, but they'd never be anything to each other, couldn't be, it didn't work like that. Not down here, not after everything that had happened. They'd never be more than this, but he wanted this so badly, even if it was just a taste.

So, the next time she came to him, all fire and rage and pent up frustration, he would take her into his arms and he would let her take it out on him, use him, because it's what he wants and he needs it, too. He would never say no to her, the thought would never even cross his mind, and he would give her what she wants every time she asked. Never once would she stay and never once would he ask her to. It was just as well, because the whole thing was built on leaving and coming back and it just wouldn't work otherwise.

Neither of them were ever very good at staying for long, anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved. I'm [here](http://assholemurphy.tumblr.com/)


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